


Of Cats and Candlelight

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 16:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: Hermione needs to relax.





	Of Cats and Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for hp_lovebirds on LJ. Thanks to grrliz for the beta job.

The fifth-year girls’ dormitory was dark and still when Ginny awoke to a face full of fur and claws digging into her shoulders. ‘Get _off_ , you daft creature,’ she said, blinking awake and shoving the large, disgruntled bundle of fur off her chest. Crookshanks meowed and flicked his tail in annoyance.

‘Sorry, Crookshanks,’ muttered Ginny, slinging her legs over the edge of the bed and reaching to scratch the cat’s ears. ‘It’s just not the nicest way to wake up, you know?’ Crookshanks didn’t know, apparently, because he was now purring contentedly, pawing the bedclothes and generally making himself at home.

‘You can’t stay here, I’m afraid,’ Ginny said as she climbed out of bed and wriggled into her dressing gown. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said, meeting Crookshanks' reproachful eyes. ‘Pandora Postelthwaite is allergic to cats, and she’ll have my guts for garters if I let you stay here.’ She paused and grinned as she fastened up her dressing gown. ‘That’s if I haven’t drowned in snot by the time she’s finished sneezing on me.’

Crookshanks continued to look mortally offended as Ginny scooped him up off the bed. ‘C’mon, you big lump,’ she said, ‘let’s get you back to Hermione.’

Ginny crept through Gryffindor tower with Crookshanks in her arms, the stone flagging on the circular staircases bitterly cold beneath her feet. The door to the sixth year girl’s dormitory creaked as she pushed it open. Ginny paused, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone, but the only signs of life were the dim light in the corner of the dormitory and the sound of Lavender Brown snoring (Ginny grinned to herself at _quite_ how unladylike Lavender sounded.)

The light came from Hermione’s bed: Ginny found her sitting up in bed, poring over the book which she had propped up in her lap. There was a candle stub burning on her bedside table, illuminating the area under the canopy in flickering shades of gold. Hermione didn’t seem to notice Ginny’s arrival; she only looked up when Ginny sat down on the bed, depositing Crookshanks on top of a pile of parchment.

‘Ginny,’ muttered Hermione, sounding distracted and vaguely displeased. ‘What are you doing here? What time is it?’

‘I’m here because I’m bringing back your adorable, but ridiculous cat,’ Ginny told her. ‘And the time is well past bedtime.’

‘Is it?’ Hermione stifled a yawn and rubbed her forehead. She was still holding her quill, which left inky smears across her skin. The marks shone momentarily in the candlelight, before fading into dull smudges as Hermione rubbed them in.

‘It is,’ Ginny confirmed, smiling matter-of-factly as she started to pick up Hermione’s books and deposited them on the floor bedside her bed.

Hermione looked alarmed as the piles of schoolwork disappeared before her eyes. ‘No, don’t do that,’ she protested. ‘I’ve got work to do.’

Ginny ignored her and continued to clear everything away: once all the books were removed to a higgledy-piggledy pile on the floor, she started gathering up quills and sliding sheets of parchment out from underneath Crookshanks.

‘Ginny, _no_ ,’ said Hermione, but her argument sounded tired and feeble. ‘I promised Professor Vector I’d write an extra foot of parchment on this term’s topic by the end of the week, and my Potions essay—’

‘— can wait,’ Ginny interrupted her once the bed was clear (or relatively clear, containing only two pyjama-clad girls and a sleeping cat). ‘You need to sleep,’ she added softly, raising her hand to stroke Hermione’s face.

‘I—’ Hermione began wearily. ‘I have so much to do. I can’t rest.’

‘You _won’t_ rest,’ Ginny contradicted her lightly. She shooed Crookshanks down to the end of the bed and pulled back the blankets. ‘C’mon, bed. Now.’

Hermione faked a frown, but climbed under the covers anyway. ‘You sound like your mother, you know.’

Ginny laughed and wriggled under the blankets next to her. ‘Would you want my mother doing this,’ she teased, running her hand gently across Hermione’s hip.

‘Hmm, maybe not,’ agreed Hermione with a soft sigh. She was lying on her side, with Ginny curled up behind her. Her body was stiff, tense with nerves and exhaustion, but she gradually started to relax under Ginny’s soothing caresses.

‘You can’t stay here,’ Hermione mumbled drowsily. ‘You’ll have to go back to your own dormitory soon.’

‘Nonsense,’ Ginny hushed her, pressing butterfly kisses to Hermione’s shoulder. ‘No-one can see me behind the curtains and I’ll easily slip out in the morning. We’ll just have to be quiet.’

‘Ginny!’ exclaimed Hermione, turning over in bed. Ginny just laughed and kissed her, silencing any further protests. Hermione struggled momentarily, trying in vain to form words of protest against Ginny’s lips. It didn’t take long for her to give up, and she returned the kiss, opening her mouth and sighing as Ginny’s tongue slipped inside.

Without breaking the kiss, Ginny moved her hand from Hermione’s shoulder to her breast, playing with the nipple through the soft fabric of her pyjamas. ‘You know,’ she whispered huskily between kisses, ‘you’d be a lot less uptight if you let me visit you a bit more often.’

‘I, _ah_ , can’t,’ Hermione gasped, still trying to cling to her prefect-like self control even as she arched under Ginny’s touch. ‘It’s not safe at school—not like during the holidays.’

 _No_ , Ginny reflected to herself sadly, _it’s not like then at all_. During the summer at the Burrow they’d shared a bedroom, relatively free of distraction or the fear of discovery. They had spent countless balmy summer evenings lying entwined on the wrought-iron bed with springs that squeaked, tentatively exploring each other’s bodies. Ginny had learnt the taste of Hermione’s skin, and her mouth, the sound of her breathing, hitched as she approached orgasm, and the feel of Hermione’s bushy hair against her thighs, while the evening breeze filled the room with the scent of honeysuckle.

Hermione had been avoiding Ginny since they got back to Hogwarts. Oh, she wasn’t obvious about it—she still chatted to Ginny in the Common Room or at mealtimes, exchanged friendly words between classes, carried on with the usual public banter. But she had made sure she was never alone with Ginny, and took care not to touch her at all.

Until now.

Ginny had waited weeks for another chance to share a bed with Hermione: she wasn’t about to let this one slip through her fingers. ‘Relax,’ she whispered, pressing tender kisses across Hermione’s face. ‘You work so hard,’ she said, and nibbled softly on Hermione’s ear. ‘All those prefect duties.’ Ginny flicked her tongue into Hermione’s ear, tickling it. ‘Your schoolwork.’ A nip to the earlobe. ‘Keeping those boys in line.’ More kisses, across Hermione’s cheek. ‘You deserve a chance to enjoy yourself.’

Hermione was melting under Ginny’s caresses, the tension oozing out of her body. She lifted a tentative hand to Ginny’s hip, then slid it slowly under the waistband of her pyjamas, tracing her fingers over Ginny’s bottom. ‘Hmm, maybe you’re right,’ she sighed contentedly.

‘You know I am.’ Ginny smirked as she rolled on top of Hermione and pinned her to the mattress, then kissed her deeply.

There were no more arguments after that, no reservations or hesitations; just soft, playful touches, stifled giggles and breathy moans. They took their time exploring each other with fingers and tongues, enjoying the thrill of rediscovering each other’s bodies too much to worry about anything else.

Hermione whimpered when she came: Ginny was sure she hadn’t make any such embarrassing sounds, but she was too happy and sated to tease Hermione about it. Instead she kissed the other girl tenderly, smiling fondly as Hermione collapsed onto the pillow, gasping for breath. Hermione was transformed by post-orgasmic bliss and the flickering candlelight. Her face was pink and glowing, lips ruby-red and kiss-swollen and her eyes flashed brilliantly. ‘You’re gorgeous,’ Ginny breathed admiringly.

‘Rubbish,’ scoffed Hermione, blushing an even deeper shade of red. ‘ _You’re_ beautiful.’

‘Let’s not argue about it,’ laughed Ginny, flopping next to her. ‘We’re both stunning.’

Hermione gaped at her for a moment, and then laughed. ‘Yeah, all right, then,’ she agreed, and kissed Ginny on the nose. The gesture made Ginny go cross-eyed and blink, causing Hermione to laugh again.

As their laughter faded into yawns, Ginny settled onto Hermione’s shoulder, twiddling strands of her hair between her fingers. ‘So, is this the part where you remember to be all sensible and send me away?’ she asked, hoping her voice didn’t betray the uncertainty that coiled in her chest.

Hermione didn’t answer for a moment, just looked at Ginny, her expression unreadable. Finally she raised herself a little off the bed, turned away from Ginny, and blew out the candle. In the pitch darkness, she snuggled up to Ginny, wrapping her arms around her tenderly. ‘Not just yet,’ she said.

‘Not yet,’ echoed Ginny, craning her neck to give Hermione a brief goodnight kiss. She settled down, smiling as the soft sounds of Hermione’s breathing and the rhythmic hum of Crookshanks purring at the foot of the bed lulled her to sleep.


End file.
